


The Christian Girl

by XxFanfictionMasterxX



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2020-10-26 05:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20737298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxFanfictionMasterxX/pseuds/XxFanfictionMasterxX
Summary: One day (Y/N) wake up to a new face at the mantion. The new nanny emediately caught her eye, to the point she couldn’t stop thinking about the older woman. She had been taught her whole life to lever fall for another woman. Her parent would disown her, the church would throw her out and the rest of the world would too... Or that’s what she assumed. But she just couldn’t help it. It wouldn’t hurt to try a little... would it?





	1. Chapter 1

The day started out like any other day; wake up Warlock, get him ready and then start cleaning. Loathing unusual at al. In fact, it was almost to normal to be normal. But (Y/N) did have this feeling, like something was going to happen, but she didn’t know what. She tried to go about her day as usual but the feeling would not be shaken off. 

Then it just stopped. The feeling ended-or more like it was explained- Her mind went blank like she had no more questions to ask. As the red haired woman in round sunglasses and blood red lips knocked on the door. (Y/N) hid behind the stairs in the hallway as a butler opened the door.  
“I understand you need a nanny.”

After a very short meeting with Mr. Dowling, the mysterious woman emerged from his office, then making her way out into the garden where Warlock most likely where playing. (Y/N) had not dated move from her spot under the stairs until she had heard the back foot slam shut and the woman’s heels no longer clicking on the sodden floor. She let out a deep breath she didn’t know she’d been holding in, before going out into the kitchen to make the snack Warlock had been requesting. But that also meant to actually face the mysterious woman for she had most certainly already found Warlock in the gardens. 

She put the snack and drink on a tray before making her way to the back door. She could see the woman talking to Warlock before standing straight and the boy running away, towards (Y/N). The woman sights visibly before following the boy with her gaze. He must have seen she was coming with his snack. She opened the door.  
“Hello Warlock. Where would you like to sit for your afternoon snack?” (Y/N) asked politely, not daring to look up at the redhead in all black.  
“Can we make it a pickling and sit on the grass?!” He jumped excitedly.  
“Of course Warlock. I’ll go fetch a blanket.” She said before setting the tray down on a nearby table. She accidentally let her gaze travel up to meet the woman’s. Or that’s what she thought at least. It was hard to see her eyes behind the yet black sunglasses. She smiled awkwardly before going inside. When she came back she immediately felt the big blanket being lifted from her arms.  
“I’ll take this, you take the tray.” The woman smiled a little before letting Warlock lead her to a spot on the grass next to some rose bushes. (Y/N) picked up the tray from the table and hurried over to them.  
“(Y/N) muffins are the best!” Warlock exclaimed as she put down the tray on the blanket. “You should try one!” Warlock picks up one of the four muffins from the tray and holds it out to the woman.  
“No thank you. Maybe another time.” She smiles politely and punched the muffin away. “I’m Ashtoreth.” She reaches her hand out and (Y/N) shakes it. “(Y/N) was it?” She nods. 

A few months later (Y/N) was no less than starstruck by Ashtoreth. And she felt no other than terrified about these feelings. What would her parents think if they found out? What would the Dowling’s thing? What would anyone think? She decided the next morning that she would try to avoid Ashtoreth to avoid any trouble. But what she did not know was that the task was going to become much more difficult that she had originally thought. 

She made it through almost a whole week of avoiding Ashtoreth. But she failed to realize she was at the end of the week not really avoiding her at all. 

(Y/N) had gotten to know the new gardener; Mr. Francis. He had the purest of hearts and would always wave at her whenever she entered the gardens and ovation sky he would call her over to show some new flowers or other plant. And she would bring him a glass of ice cold lemonade or a cup of tea whenever he needed it. 

One day Francis was trying to decide which flowers he wanted to order for the new sitting area the Dowling’s where getting built. He was flipping back and forth in a gardening magazine with dozens of different kinds of flowers, bushes and trees. As he looked up he saw (Y/N) walking towards him, to the small garden table he was seated at, with a tray of refreshments.  
“AH! (Y/N)! Please, I am a fraud I am in great need of your advice!” He said merrily.  
“Oh, what is it? You know I’m not good at anything to do with gardening, Brother Francis.” She sat down across him, putting them both a glass each.  
“Nonsense! You haven’t even tried it. But no I just can’t seem to be able to decide what flowers to order for the gazebo. Do you have any suggestions?” He gladly took the glass (Y/N) had poured him and took a sip. (Y/N) rested her shin in her hand, thinking. She tried to think of things around the manor and felt he thoughts drift to Ashtoreth. Her dark red hair, always styled neatly.  
“Perhaps some red roses?” She said absentmindedly.  
“Oh yes! That’s a great idea!” He said and started flipping through the magazine to find the page with all the roses. He soon stopped and looked intensely at the paper in front of him.  
“Like these?” He pointed at a specific kind of deep red roses. She nodded excitedly.  
“Well, I should get back to work. Good luck with the flowers.” She said while standing up. Taking Francis, now empty, glass and putting it on the tray before taking it inside.


	2. Chapter 2

A few months later the gazebo was finished and the flowers had arrived. It didn’t take long for the gardener to start planting the bushes around the newly built gazebo. 

(Y/N) was hanging the laundry up to dry outside when Francis came over. A single deep red rose in his hand. A smile was upon his lips as usual.   
“Hello brother Francis.” She paused her work.  
“Hello (Y/N). It seems that one of the roses broke of the bush while I was planting them. I thought it was still rather beautiful. So, ehm, here.” He handed over the single rose a bit awkwardly.  
“Well thank you very much brother Francis!” She carefully twisted the flower in between her thump and pointy finger, looking at it with a dreamy look in her eyes.   
“Well. I should get back to planting those bushes.” (Y/N) nodded goodbye and was about to put the flower in her shirt pocket when Warlock came over.  
“Brother Francis told me you picked out the new flowers.” She nodded at him.  
“Yes I did. Aren’t they lovely. Did I do a good job choosing them?” Warlock nodded with a smile.  
“Why do you like them so much?” He said curiously.  
“Well...” She glanced around. Telling him wouldn’t be so bad, would it? They had told each other secrets before. Warlock nodded, the curiosity taking the best of him. “It’s because they remind me of nanny Ashtoreth.”   
“Why is that?” He looked confused.  
“Well, for example; she always wears such dark red lipstick. And her hair is such a beautiful red too.” She said, almost getting carried away. She decided to give the rose to him. He smiled at it and gave her a quick hug. 

Before she knew it, Warlock had sacred across the yard to where Ashtoreth was standing, waiting for him. (Y/N) went back to work, while sneaking glances at the pair across the yard. Warlock was explaining something, doing gestures in the air. And then he held the red rose high and pointed back at (Y/N). It dawned on her. He had told her. She tried hiding behind the laundry, but trowing a quick last glance their way, she saw a surprised Ashtoreth looking up from Warlock to her, with a sly smile. (Y/N) felt her cheeks burning red as she averted her eyes. She hoped she didn’t find it weird or gross. 

After that it seemed like everything changed.  
(Y/N) had been cleaning the carpets in a hallway on the second floor when Ashtoreth had appeared as if from nowhere, asking if she needed any help while Warlock took an afternoon nap. She had gladly accepted with a shy smile and cheeks tinted red.   
They had ended up tangled in a curtain while cleaning and it had fallen off one of the hinges. (Y/N)’s cheeks had been at least as red as the roses while Ashtoreth only wore a sly smirk on her thin lips. What they didn’t know was that down in the garden was brother Francis, watching the scene unfold on the other side of the second floor window. Ashtoreth lifted the curtain rod up in one hand from them both, holding (Y/N)’s hand in the other to help her keep her balance. (Y/N) looked up at her as she felt her hand in her’s. Her blush darkened as she tried to speak, her words failing her. Ashtoreth brought their joined hand up to her lips, giving (Y/N) work beaten but tender hand a sweet kiss, leaving a slightly visible lip mark in the back of her hand. She started stuttering while Ashtoreth put the curtain rod back in its hanger, the curtain falling past them into its rightful place in front of the window. 

For several months after that (Y/N) and Ashtoreth continued their flirtatious action in secrecy of the many hidden corners of the manor. One time Warlock almost caught them flirting and hand kissing under the stairs. Another time brother Francis practically walked in on Ashtoreth going in to kiss (Y/N) cheek. That would’ve been their most proper kiss yet. If it wasn’t for the interruption. 

A few months of endless secret flirting, they seemed to finally be able to have a day to themselves. Brother Francis was going to teach Warlock all about nature for a day. The only problem was that (Y/N) still had some work to do before she was free for the day.  
While she was putting away the vacuum cleaner, Ashtoreth had punched her into the supply room, knocking a couple of bottles from a shelf in the progress.

The room was dimly lit by a single, old and flickering lamp in the middle of the ceiling. (Y/N) had backed into a big box, Ashtoreth trapping her in between it and herself. 

“A-A-Ashtoreth!” She whimpered, embarrassed. Before she could say anything else, the taller woman had captured her lips with her own red painted ones.   
(Y/N) whimpered in surprise before slowly melting into it. The kiss was slightly heated but she could still feel the love of the action.  
(Y/N) shakily brought her arms around her neck. She could feel Ashtoreth put one of her hands around her waist and the other staying on her cheek. As they broke the kiss for air, Ashtoreth started peppering her soft face with kisses making (Y/N) giggle. She then brought her kisses back up to her mouth. They where so distracted by each other that they failed to notice to door being opened from the other side.  
“Oh goodness-“ (Y/N) broke the kiss to see brother Francis standing in the doorway. “I-sorry, I was looking for a bucket...” (Y/N) felt her face burning. Ashtoreth seemed unfazed by the intrusion and the fact that her red lipstick was smeared and had left marks all over (Y/N) face and neck.   
“I-I-I- can explain!” She tried standing straighter, failing at pushing Ashtoreth away.   
“Don’t worry darling. Francis is the last one you need to worry about. You could say he’s and angel.” She said looking back at him.   
“Oh...” She looked down at her feet in embarrassment. She tried composing herself before looking up at brother Francis. “What do you need it for?” She said clearing her throat.

(Y/N) was standing in front of the mirror in her room. She had multiple red lipstick prints all over her face and neck. She felt her face heat up at the mere thought and memory of the redhead kissing her. A shy smile crept its way to her lips as she brought her hand up to her face, feeling her kiss swollen lips. In that moment she almost forgot the pressure she felt from god. Or what she thought was. 

One day (Y/N) woke up to Warlock sitting at the dining table, alone. No nanny to look after him.   
“Good morning Warlock. Where’s your nanny?” She said a bit worried. She made herself a cup of tea and sat down across from him.  
“Father said I don’t need a nanny anymore.” He took a big bite of his breakfast. “Brother Francis has left too. He said he was needed elsewhere.” (Y/N) felt her body turn cold with shock.  
“She just left? Without telling me...” She mumbled. Warlock didn’t hear what she said, but her reaction what’s clear as day.  
“Nanny left a letter for you.” He pointed at a neatly sealed envelope on the top of a pile of letters and newspapers. She reached for it quickly, opening it carefully.

‘Dear (Y/N).  
I am sorry I didn’t get a chance to see you one last time before I left but I was needed elsewhere immediately. I promise we will see each other again, just not as often as we would both like. I will hopefully attend one of Warlocks birthdays, it will be special.  
Love, Ashtoreth’

She read through the letter with shaking hands. She tried to be mad at her for just leaving but it seemed impossible. She folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope.   
“Are you okay, (Y/N)?” Warlock asked carefully. She just nodded absentmindedly as she rose to her feet, leaving her cup of tea untouched. She walked out into the garden on shaky legs. A lonely tear fell down her cheek, not out of sadness but happiness. She had written that they would meet again. She smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

As it neared Warlock’s 11th birthday, his mother, Mrs. Dowling has asked (Y/N) to act as assistant. She followed her and her son around to take notes of everything they discussed about the boy’s birthday party. That way nothing would be forgotten or ignored.   
As the three where walking around at a dinosaur park, the boy complained about wanting his birthday party in an escape room. His mother put down the idea.

“Why can’t I have my birthday party in an escape room?!” He kicked the ground, clearly not pleased.  
“For the last time, no. We have already booked the-“ Their voices slowly died out of (Y/N) head. She trailed a bit behind the two, looking around. There where not many people in the park today. A few passerby’s, someone reading one of the information boards and two sitting at a bench in the hill above them. 

Crowley and Aziraphale sat on a bench, watching Warlock and his company discuss his 11th birthday party. They both knew very well that it was (Y/N) following them and Crowley has to use all his willpower not to run up to her and kiss her and tell her he had missed her. There was only one problem; he was not Ashtoreth, the woman she had fallen in love with. And he was not shire if she would love him the same. He wished he wouldn’t have to face her about the fact. 

As it was time for Warlock’s birthday party, (Y/N) was blowing up balloons and putting up other decorations. Warlock was off somewhere, obviously not interested in helping. Why would he? The Dowling’s had hired waiters clad in white tuxedos and she had hear someone speak of a magician. As she went inside to help the waiters and the cooks with bringing out the food she nearly clashed with a waiter from around the corner. He, unlike the other waiters, she noticed, wore round sunglasses. He cast her a surprised look before hastily apologizing and hurrying off, cake in hand. She thought nothing of it and hurried inside to assist.

“Warlock?!” Mrs. Dowling called after the birthday boy as (Y/N) entered the kitchen. “Oh, (Y/N)! Have you seen Warlock? He seems to have just gone up in smoke!” Mrs. Dowling stressed. (Y/N) gave her a friendly smile.  
“Have you shocked his room? I’ll go look for him.” Mrs. Dowling gave out a sight in relief and nodded at her before going on her way. (Y/N) walked the stairs up to Warlock’s room, knocking lightly.  
“Warlock? Are you in there?” She laid her ear against the wooden door. She heard a quiet  
“Who is it?”  
“It’s me, (Y/N).” She said before laying her hand upon the door handle . A mumbled  
“Come in.” Was heard and she pushed the door handle down.  
“Hello Warlock. Are you alright? Why aren’t you downstairs looking after the preparations for your birthday party?” Warlock sat on the edge of his bed, fiddling with a comic book.  
“I wanted an escape room for by birthday party.” He mumbled grumpily.  
“Well, maybe if you say it earlier next year it might be arranged... Can I sit?” Warlock nodded. She sat down next to him on the bed. “And maybe someone will help you get your wish through...” She looked up at the sealing with a sly smile. Warlock looked up at her with a hopeful look in his eyes.  
“Really? You would help me get an escape room for my next birthday party?” He smiles hopefully. (Y/N) glances down at him, head still tilted high. She winked at him before standing up.  
“I might. Now, I have to get back to making this Pitt bday party the greatest yet.” Warlock smiled happily at her as she left his room.


	4. Chapter 4

As the children filled the tent in the backyard of the Dowling’s estate, (Y/N) stood pay one of the pillars, watching. The children sat down on the many pillows on the ground, Warlock front and center, looking exited. (Y/N) spaces out slightly, only smiling at people walking right past her. Suddenly the children started complaining  
"It was in the table." Warlock wined.  
"You said there was going to be a proper magician." A girl pointed out. Then she went on about what she had at her own birthday party.  
"You're rubbish." Warlock said.  
“Excuse me. Excuse me. He's right y'know. You’re actually rubbish.” A boy behind Warlock shirked up after warlock had voiced his complain. The magician, holding a white rabbit he had just pulled from his hat, stood still. Soon all hell broke out and the children started throwing cake at each other. The magician was hit in the chest with cake and evacuated the tent. Warlock turned towards her, a big grin on his face. She then felt cake clash with her cheek. She yelled in surprised before starting to giggle. Warlock was clearly the one who had grown the cake and he started laughing too.  
“This is the best birthday party ever!” He yelled. (Y/N) laughed one last time before exiting the part tent.   
She thought she saw a wisp of red hair out on the parking lot and so she hurried over, taking a shortcut through a small path in between the bushes. And there it was. The black Bentley without a scratch or hint of dust on it. She would recognize it anywhere, down to toe registration plate. It was her Bentley.   
They had gone driving in it on multiple occasions. She would ever forget the smell of leather as Ashtoreth kissed her that time they had drove to the ocean to watch the sunset on a late summer night. 

She couldn’t help herself as a big smile spread across her face and she farted forward to the open drivers door.  
“Ashtoreth!” She leaned forward slightly, looking into the car through the open door. But she was met with a man. One of the waiters the Dowling’s had hired, the one she had bumped into earlier that day. Red hair, round glasses and the white tuxedo. His head snapped to her, a horrified and surprised look on his face, slightly masked by his sunglasses. But she could still see his brow shot up in surprise.   
“Who are you?!” She backed away in a hurry. The man looked back at someone in the passenger seat, that (Y/N) couldn’t see. The man sight and slowly stepped out of the car. He almost looked ashamed? (Y/N) took another step back.  
“Look.” He said in an unsure voice. “(Y/N)...”   
“How do you know my name?” She stares at him.   
“It’s me... Ashtoreth... You have to-” He didn’t looking straight at her. In a flash (Y/N) had slapped the man across the cheek. His sunglasses flew to the ground and his cheek pulsing red. He didn’t lift his face from the slap, he just brought a shaking hand up to his red cheek. (Y/N) brought her hand up again, at the ready. She was shaking. Had she just slapped a man who just tried to explain himself? The man flinched slightly when she brought her hand up. He slowly brought his, now unclad eyes up to look at her. Serpent eyes med (E/C).   
“Explain.” She said quietly. When he didn’t answer and just averted his eyes she yelled “Explain!” She shook. He did too.   
“I’m a demon.” He began. “I had to go undercover to look over Warlock. He's the Antichrist... We're trying to stop the end of the world." She studied the man. Somehow she believed him. Like, who would make up something like an 11 year old boy who is suppose to bring the end of the world?  
She slowly wandered her eyes over his face. So familiar yet so different. She brought her hand to his bruised cheek, placing it on top of his. He flinched, clearly hoping she was to believe him. She looked at his brow, as red as she remembered. She looked at his cheek, the non bruised one, the ones that where ever so often holding a sly smile. She looked at his lips, the same she used to kiss in secrecy from the others. She med his serpent eyes again, they held desperation and hope. Shyly, they both seemed to lean into the other. His slightly rough lips med her soft ones in a tender kiss.  
"I've missed you." She said as she pulled him into a hug instead.  
"Missed you too." He mumbled. Aziraphale, who still sat in the passenger seat, cleared his throat awkwardly.  
"This is very sweet but we need to leave." Crowley pulled away from the hug like pulled back to reality and blushed. He opened the backseat door and ushed (Y/N) into the backseat.  
"Wha-" She yelped as he pushed her inside before closing the door. As soon as Crowley hit his seat in the Bentley, the radio started and a mans voice began to speak.  
"Hello Crowley."  
"Uh, hi. Who's this?" He sounded slightly nervous. Aziraphale looked over at Crowley and then back at (Y/N) slightly worried and confused but smiled at her slightly nonetheless.  
"Dagon, Lord of the Files, Master of Torments."  
"Yeah, just checking in about the Hell Hound."  
"He should be with you by now. Why? Has something gone wrong, Crowley?" Dagon said as a mater of fact. Crowley and Aziraphale looked at each other. (Y/N) sat in the backseat, not daring to say a word.  
"Wrong? No, no. Nothing's wrong. What could be wrong? Oh, no, I see him now, yes. What a lovely, big helly Hell Hound. Yes, OK, great talking to you." He hurried and turned the radio off.  
"No dog." Aziraphale said.  
"No dog." Crowley confirmed. (Y/N) leaned forward in her seat, laying a hand on the drivers seats backrest.  
"Wrong boy."  
"Wrong boy."  
"Isn't it good that there's no Hell hound?" (Y/N) Said carefully.  
"No, that means we've go the wrong boy!" Crowley slammed the steering wheel whit his fists and rested his forehead in between them.  
"Lets go back to my bookshop and think over what to do next." Aziraphale suggested.  
"Brother Francis?" (Y/N) realized.


	5. Chapter 5

By when the three arrived at Aziraphale’s bookshop, (Y/N) and the angel where sticky with cake frosting.  
“Would you like to use the shower, dear?” The angel led the two into the backroom.  
“That would be lovely. Thank you.” Aziraphale nodded and led (Y/N) up to his living quarters.  
“I’ll go change clothes.” Crowley said in a lazy tone and made a left turn at the top of the stairs. Aziraphale led (Y/N) into the bathroom and left her to shower.  
“Thank you so much.” Aziraphale smiled. She locked the door and began pealing of the first layer of clothing. Then a knock was heard on the door. She had almost unbuttoned her blouse halfway but stopped and unlocked the door. There stood Crowley, now in a black attire. His eyes met hers before wandering to her now slightly exposed cleavage and he blushed.  
“Here. Towel. Uh...” his blush grew redder as he tried not to stare. He pushed the fluffy cream colored towel in her arms. She blushed slightly. Was she suppose to invite him to shower with her? Did demons need to shower? Did Crowley shower?  
“Eh... Thank you.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before backing away and closing the door. (Y/N) proceeded to undress and take a hot shower. Her blouse had been slightly stained by the sticky ingredients of the cake. She sighed softly and tried to was it away in the sink to no avail. She wrapped the towel around herself again before exiting the bathroom. She stood at the top of the stairs.   
"Armageddon is days away and we've lost the Antichrist." Crowley sat with his head leaning on his hand, at the table in the back of Aziraphale's bookshop while the angel poured them each a glass.  
“Why did the powers of Hell have to drag me into this anyway?"  
"Don't quote me on this, but I'm pretty sure it's because of all those memos you kept sending them, saying how amazing you where doing." The angel pointed out. (Y/N) cleared her throat to get their attention.  
“Uhm... I was just- my blouse got stained and I tried to wash it off but now my blouse is all wet. And I, um. I was wondering if you had a shirt I could borrow?” Crowley and Aziraphale both looked up from their conversation. Crowley once again blushed.   
“Uh...” Crowley trailed of as his eyes trailed over her skin, still covered with droplets of water. “Yeah- You can take my other shirt.” He said before standing up and walking up the stairs to meet her. He hurriedly pushed her into the bathroom again before getting the white button up he had worn before. He handed her the shirt and looked out into the hallway. When he looked back, (Y/N) had dropped the towel and was putting on the shirt. It was a few sizes too big and looked like a dress on her. She adjusted the collar and started buttoning it up. Crowley couldn’t help himself and went behind her, snaking his arms around her waist. She made a squeaking sound in embarrassment. Crowley chuckled and gave her neck a kiss.   
“Crowley...” He tightened his hug. “Not now. He’s just downstairs.” She gestured to Aziraphale downstairs. Crowley pouted and let her go. She proceeded to put on her skirt, tucking the shirt in. Then they walked downstairs together. 

"Would you like a drink, (Y/N)?" The angel looked up from what he was doing, as the two came down again.   
“No thank you.”  
“Where were we? Right! Is it my fault they never check-up? I'm to blame they never check-up?" Aziraphale gave him a glass as he was sitting downand he picked it up while ranting on.  
"Everyone stretches the truth a bit in memos to heal office. You know that."  
"Yes, but you told them you invented the Spanish Inquisition and started the Second World War." Aziraphale pointed out again. (Y/N) joined them, standing behind Crowley and laying her hands on his shoulders. Crowley put one of his hands on top of hers.  
"So the humans beat me to it. That's not my fault." He stopped suddenly, sniffing the air. (Y/N) looked down at him, a brow raised. Aziraphale was just about to drink from his own glass.  
"What is it?" She asked  
"Something's changed. Aziraphale lowered his glass.  
"Oh, it's a new cologne. My barber suggested it."  
"Not you. I know what you smell like." Crowley hissed. Aziraphale looked slightly confused. Crowley looked up.  
"The Hell Hound as found its master." He said in a hushed voice.  
"Are you sure?" (Y/N) asked, her grip on Crowley's shoulders tightening slowly.  
"I felt it. Would i lie to either of you?"  
"Well, obviously. You're a demon. That's what you do." Aziraphale sighted.  
"No, I'm not lying. The boy, wherever he is, has the dog." He shook his head.  
“He's named. It's done." He sat up properly and (Y/N) went to stand next to him, still holding his hand.  
"He's coming into his power... We're doomed."  
"Well,then... welcome to the end times." Aziraphale looked between the two.


	6. Chapter 6

Crowley and (Y/N) said their goodbyes before exiting Aziraphale's bookshop and getting into the Bentley parked outside. It was quiet until Crowley spoke.  
"I'm so sorry I dragged you into this. You should have stayed at the birthday party and I would've tried to clear up this whole mess before trying to get a hold of you-" He ranted on (Y/N) let him. She could tell he had thought long and hard on it. She turned sideways in her seat, placing her hand on his cheek and turning his head towards her. His thoughts stopped. He looked at her calm face. She smiled and shakes her head.   
“No. I’m more than happy you told me the truth and brought me here. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you. Sure, you’re not the woman I fell in love with, but you are the same personality, the same face...” She trailed off as Crowley leaned in. She quickly met his lips in a sweet and slightly heated kiss. Her hand went behind his neck, up to tangle in his hair; but she remembered he had now it cut short. She wined slightly at it and heard a chuckle from Crowley. They parted and Crowley sat straight up in his seat, a slight frown on his face.   
“I’m serious. I’ll drive you right back right now. But only if you let me, I won’t force you to go back.” He looked over at her again.   
“I love you and I won’t let you face the end of the world alone.” She had a demanding tone that was the only confirm that he needed. He started the car and they drove back to Crowley’s apartment. It was quiet except for the soft Queens music playing through the radio.   
“You like Queen?” She broke the comfortable silence after a while. Crowley nodded, keeping his eyes on the dark road. "Me too." She said quietly. Crowley smirked. G- Satan, did he love her.

As Crowley stopped the car on the side of the road, the sky was dark and the crickets could be heard from the neighboring park. They climbed the stairs to his apartment. It was clean and had dark grey interior.  
"You should sleep." Crowley opened the bedroom door.  
"In a moment." She looked around his apartment. Her feet wandered into his indoor garden. The many green plants seemed to shiver as Crowley stepped in behind her.  
"Do demons sleep?" She asked absentmindedly as she looked out the big window.  
“Not normally, no. I like it tho.”  
“Then join me.” She said shyly as she grabbed his hand and walked to the bedroom. 

**

Crowley has left bed early the next morning but (Y/N) couldn’t help but stay a little longer, savoring the warmth and feeling the smell of Crowley all around her. She could hear Crowley entering his office by the sound of the big spinning door. The tv was turned on and it sounded like a talk show. But a mans voice was then heard, interrupting the original tv sound. (Y/N) slowly snuck out of bed, grabbing one of Crowley’s shirt from his wardrobe. She had seen him open the unnoticeable wardrobe door when he had been getting dressed. The shirt was once again too big but she smiled and snuggled into it slightly. The tv made a sound.  
"Morning, Crowley.”  
“Just checking in. Nice chair.” The voices on the tv sounded. (Y/N) snuck out into the hallway, hiding behind the frosted glass door.   
“It’s about the Antichrist.” She listened in on what they where saying. The Antichrist, the four horsemen of the apocalypse...  
A very strained “Yay.” Was heard from Crowley’s end.   
“Armageddon will begin. The final combat. It’s what we’ve been working towards since we rebelled. We are the fallen. Never forget that.”  
“Well, It’s not the sort of thing you forget.” Then the man on the tv whispered something that (Y/N) couldn’t hear.   
“Everything is going just fine.” Then Crowley snapped his fingers and the tv turned off. (Y/N) looked into his office.  
“You’re out on dangerous waters trying to eavesdrop demons without being noticed.” He looked over at her stepping forward into the office.  
“Sorry.” She said before walking over to him.   
“I didn’t mean to fall.” He mumbled with a sad look in his serpent eyes. “I just hung around the wrong people.” He leaned his head on (Y/N)’s stomach as she stood next to his throne. She stroked his hair calmingly.  
“It’s ok.” She whispered.

The morning after, Crowley called Aziraphale again. (Y/N) sat at his throne while he stood next to it, leaning on the desk.  
“Any news? Found the missing Antichrist yet?”  
“No. No news. Nothing nothing at all. If I had anything, I would tell you, obviously. Immediately. We’re friends. Why would you even ask?” Aziraphale sounded strange to (Y/N), other than the sound the phone gives off. He almost sounded nervous.   
“Oh, there’s no news here either. Call me if you find anything.”  
“You can do it!” (Y/N) said loudly so Aziraphale could hear.  
“Thank you (Y/N). Absolutely Crowley. Why would you think I wouldn’t?” Then he had slammed his phone down, ending the call with the other two.  
“Hm... that was a little bit strange, wasn’t it.” (Y/N) mumbled mostly to herself. 

Later that day, Crowley came rushing into the apartment, into his office.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“Nothings wrong. Everything’s ticketiboo.” He was clearly frustrated.  
“Did you fight?”  
“Why would you think that?” He started spinning the globe standing on his desk.   
“Where should we go... England’s out...” He mumbled to himself and took the globe out of its holder.  
“You wanna talk about it?”   
“No no, it’s quite alright.” He spun the globe slowly between his hands. He let it go but it just footer away for a bit in the air. (Y/N) studied his movement. He opened a drawer and dug forward a big book. As he flipped through the pages they flew into the air. As he rambled on about places to go, (Y/N) continued to watch him. He slouched over the throne. The phone rang and Crowley got up unwillingly.   
“Yes? Who is it?” He sighted  
“We’re looking for a (Y/N) (L/N). Is she there?” Crowley looked over at (Y/N).  
‘How’d they know?’ She mouthed. Crowley shrugged as he handed her the phone.   
“Uhm...” She cleared her throat. “Yes, hello, this is (Y/N) speaking. Who is it?”   
The entire conversation was a blur to (Y/N). She had been told she was being brought along with the Dowling’s for a trip to look after Warlocke. 


	7. Chapter 7

(Y/N) had tried to keep Warlock’s spirit up the entire car ride. She had asked him to show her some of the games on his Nintendo and how to play them. That had worked for a good while but not long enough. (Y/N) got out of the car before letting Warlock step out. He was incredibly bored, and it showed. Mrs. Dowling got out on the other side of the car and went to stand next to her husband. She asked about why they where all out in the middle of nowhere. Her husband said something about “This is life as a diplomat.” And it being a fact finding family trip... or something like that. (Y/N) was trying to focus on Warlock so that he wouldn’t run of or do something stupid. Then someone introduced a man by the name Hastur La Vista... he sounded weird and looked very strange but (Y/N) kept her mouth shut. As Mr. Dowling went to shake his hand, Hastur ignored him completely and went for Warlock instead, clearly more interested in the boy than his father. He looked around and wondered where the dog was.   
“Young Warlock doesn’t have a dog, sir.?” (Y/N) put in.   
“Why doesn’t the boy have a dog?!”  
“You smell like poo.” Warlock said outright.   
“Warlock!” (Y/N) burst out in disbelief. She put her hand on his shoulder. Hastur looked at her and forced a smile.   
He asked if he heard voices. This man was clearly mad.   
“The voices? The voices in my head all say... that you smell like poo...” Warlock tried to go along with the mans rambling but couldn’t help himself. The man snapped and went on about inaudible things. But when the name Crowley left his mouth as he bit his finger, (Y/N) was all ears. She might have let out a soft breath of chock and she prayed no one heard her. But of course Hastur did. He looked at her, suddenly interested in her and nothing else.   
“Hm... assuming by that reaction... does the name Crowley ring a bell to you?” He inched close.   
“Um.. No. Not at all.” She tried but she could see that she was now stuck.   
“Don’t lie to me girl. I know you do. You smell like his, I can feel it.” He snarled.  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She said as she pushed Warlock behind her, shielding him from the strange man.  
“Warlock, get in the car.” She warned him as Hastur glared her down. Warlock looked at her confused. “Get. In. The car.” She said calmly. He locked at her, scared, and backed away. Everyone else was frozen in place like they where frozen in time.  
“You little brat!” Hastur snarled as he grabbed a hold of her neck. (Y/N) let out a small yell.  
“Let me go!” She clawed at his hand. He just stared into her eyes as he chucked.   
“Oh no, my dear. I think you will be of use.” He started to walk away from the black cars. It was like time started again and Mr. and Mrs. Dowling flinched violently as they watched (Y/N) being pulled away by her hair.   
“Let me go!” She screamed again and stumbled on her own feet. “You demon fuck!” She grabbed his wrist holding her hair and bunched his nose in with the other. Hasturs grip loosened as he stumbled back. (Y/N) fell back onto the ground, hurriedly crawling backwards.   
“Now, you have made a big mistake little girl...” He glared down at her and snapped his fingers.

After Hasturs message to Crowley in the cinemas where he had mentioned having something that stood him near and Crowley had fled to try and get Aziraphale to come with him. He was then preparing to question Hastur about whatever it was he had that would be so dear to him. He would never be able to even imagine what it was. He had instead succeeded in killing the other guy and trapping Hastur in his phone. He had then fed his apartment.   
As Crowley sped through the streets in his Bentley, he tried to call Aziraphale to no avail. He then tried (Y/N) number.  
“Hello! This is (Y/N) (L/N). I can’t talk right now but please leave a message.” Her friendly voice was heard, the only problem was; it wasn’t actually her. That’s when he arrived at Aziraphale’s burning bookshop.


End file.
